Star Monster
by Nevermore Marni
Summary: Wendy has never been normal. She stays up all night reading angsty fanfiction and her best friend is the idiot who decided that portable pencil sharpeners should have little screws and not bolts. She fully embraces her demons and she makes sure they are well provided for. So is this Wendy's suicide note or something a little less... Normal. You decide.
1. Chapter 1

There has always been something wrong with me, not that anyone can see it.  
Even when they do get a glimpse of it, they just brush it off like its nothing.

"_Oh Wendy_!" My mother was always the root of my problems, not that she meant to be. "Why do you do this to yourself? You have such pretty skin."

I know I have pretty skin mother, I've seen more of it than you could ever understand. I've seen it from the inside. She really meant well, but you know addicts, everything's always about them.  
How could THEIR lives be so difficult?  
Why are the drugs THEY like so expensive?  
Why does it have to be HER daughter that ended up the freak?

As I sat quietly as I often do late nights and I ran the blade over my arm again, rocking it on the parts of my wrists where my bones protruded my skin. I watched as my scars reopened and ran down my arm and onto my bedroom floor. I could feel my heart racing as I drug my dulling razor down my already badly broken flesh.  
I am not at all finished.

There is a thirst inside me, one that can only be quenched when my blood runs on the outside.

You don't have to say it.  
I already know.

What I fail to understand is why it is socially acceptable to be a drug addict but not a cutter.

"Wendy, drug addicts aren't constantly trying to end their lives."  
Well, they most certainly don't have to try. Had I wanted to end my life, I would have to want it so badly I could taste it.  
I would have to take this blade and put it through my arm. People over dose and die accidentally every day. Last time I checked, I've never heard of anyone who "accidentally" sliced their wrist the wrong way and found the golden ticket to the big chocolate factory in the sky.  
If I wanted to die, I would. Simple as that.

I put my finger in a puddle and ran it over the hard wood so it looked like an angry sunset seeping into my bedroom floor. I drew in a red crescent moon and even a couple stars off to the left, there. Right there. That one. That one is my star.

I must confess, I feel like a monster sometimes. When you hear about little girls cutting themselves its something big and traumatic.  
My Daddy doesn't love me.  
My Mommy's on drugs.  
My Boyfriend beat me up last night.  
I woke up without pants on.  
I think I have a concussion.

Not me. I do it because I like it. I'm ashamed, really.  
I hate it when people see them and try to pity me. Like they don't even know who I am and here they are trying to pity me.

"Wendy, you're not a monster!" I was always jealous of Lily. Unfortunate she wasn't very bright. "You're a good person."

I don't care weather or not you live or die. Doesn't that make me a monster?

Don't tell me there isn't a monster inside me. I can feel it breathing with my lungs, I can taste the way it craves my blood and I can tell it will only keep growing. I absentmindedly cut stars into my arms as I lay on my floor. There's a beast in me and I can't control it. I love it, it is the only thing in this world that understands me. When it takes over its like waves of tingling ecstasy; like a drug is washing away all the pain. All the rage. All the guilt from not feeling guilty.

There was a boy who understood me once, he was-  
Lets just say he was all too ready to let his shadows take him away from this sick place.  
He often told me that just because you had a demon inside you, the fact alone didn't inherently make you a monster yourself.

He was wrong. Monsters don't like to live with little girls who tell them they won't give them anything they want.

In the end this monster is the only one who really cares about me anymore. It never tells me I'm sick or asks me to stop. He holds my hand as I give in to the monster I am growing in too. I don't mind. Its just easier this way. While you lie cold and alone in a bed that's too big for one person, I remain happy all by myself.

Even when someday I make the same bed Shadow Boy made, my demons will keep my bones warm; Just as I keep their cravings at bay, they give me a comfort you don't get from another human being. The kind of comfort you get when you take the first bite from a warm biscuit, or the last sip of tea. The kind of comfort you get when you finger paint bleeding sunsets on your mothers new hard wood flooring.

A comfort that only comes when you try to kill your pain a little more...  
_Directly._

I felt something in my heart break as my thoughts rested on the Shadow Boy's head stone.  
It had stars too.  
The star on my arm has become too muddled in blood to see where I'm carving.

I think about my mother. My poor innocent mother. She thought his death was a tragic accident.  
Its hilarious, really.

I take my blade and in one swift movement I slice from the top of my wrist straight down through my star, all the way to my elbow joint. I watched as it streamed onto the floor in rivers. Like the clouds gave up on rain and just dropped buckets of this slick red wonder onto the floors of my childhood. I watch for almost a full minute before something snaps in my head.

Completely laughable.  
Cutters don't die accidentally.

I quickly put on a black hoodie and press the fabric into my skin to stop the bleeding. I can see my blood in little mesh patterns from where it has bled through. It doesn't phase me. I crawl into my bed and enjoy the warm embrace of an appeased demon. It will stop bleeding.

When a cutter dies- _It's completely planned for._

* * *

Well hello everyone!

It's that time of year again!

Miss Marni needs a place to put her crazy sooooooo...

Welcome to either my new thing or Wendy's suicide note.

Only time will tell.

With work how it is I still haven't found an editor, so I do apologize for all my grammar transgressions.

Slap me in the face. With a Review. Thanks.

With all my love,

MXM


	2. Chapter 2

Wendy awoke in a haze, her arm felt tight as if nail polish had dried on her arm. She could feel the way it cracked and chipped when she moved and the way it pulled her skin tight when she stretched. She had made it through the night once again. She stared up at her ceiling and sighed.

She still hated the world. She still hated every living person in the world

There was still war, there were still children starving in Africa. The US government was still putting fluoride in her drinking water to keep her a mindless puppet of society. There was still a nuclear power plant oozing into the world via Japan. The whales were still safer starving to death and being slaves to entertain america's youth rather than in their natural habitats.

Her father still didn't love her.  
Her mother was still a drug addict.  
Her boyfriend had still beaten her up two nights ago.  
She had still woken up with out pants the morning after.  
She still thought she had a concussion.

But she felt better.

Really and truly, she didn't know why. But that morning Wendy Bartlett felt much, much better. So she went to her floor where she has smeared blood the night before, dumped some of her drinking water out of her plastic jug and wiped the stain clean. She then sat at her vanity and plastered on all the fake-ness she needed to get herself though the day. She started with her swollen eyes, patting foundation and concealer into her thick eyelids. They stung as she layered on an especially dark shade of brown over the redder parts of her eye and swooped a golden hue in the corners. It was getting ridiculous how easy it was to cover up the mess. She started on the bruise on her cheek bone. She wasn't exactly sure what to do with it, usually when Danny hit her it wasn't anywhere people could see.

_So what now? _She thought to herself. _I guess it would be a good time to tell people you've taken up kick boxing..._

Wendy laughed. What a stupid notion, she only had one person who cared enough to need to be lied too.

_Lily is never going to believe I took up kick boxing... She regularly has to make me get up to use the bathroom..._

Wendy brushed some concealer over the bruise, maybe she could cover it if she had a little faith and tried hard enough.

_I could tell her I fell...That's stupid! This whole thing is stupid! _Wendy threw down her make up brush. It didn't matter. She'd just pretend like she didn't know she had it. _Laugh like its no big deal. Like you hadn't even noticed it while you were putting on all this make up. Play it off like she's ridiculous for even noticing._

"What bruise?" She said into her mirror, she giggled and watched the way her eyes crinkled when she spoke. "I didn't even notice it," She laughed again "I wonder how that happened. I must have smacked my head off the bunk bed bars last night," she paused again to laugh "I must have been out cold."

She practiced her smile in the mirror a thousand times before she was satisfied, but when she was she stood and put on a long sleeved black scoop neck shirt and a pair of her favorite jeans. She smiled in the mirror once more before she re-did her pony tail and put on a layer of chap stick.

"Wendy?" She heard her mother call "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she said as she touched up her eyeliner "I'm coming."

* * *

When Wendy arrived at school Danny, as always, was the first to see her. He smiled a _very _convincing smile and kissed her forehead lightly.

"Sweetheart, what happened? You're bruised" he cooed.

She stopped walking and just looked at him like a was a complete idiot as he smirked expectantly.

"What. Bruise." She said threw gritted teeth. " I must have slept right through BEATING my head off the bars on the top bunk."

"Well that was foolish." He squeezed her hand tightly "Should be more careful."

"Yeah, there are a lot of things I should do." she batted her eyes sweetly as she took her hand from his.

She could see Lily walking up the side walk, she hoped she could compose herself before she had to explain her face.

Lily was wearing this beautifully beaded dress that made her perfectly tanned skin look like some kind of natural wonder.  
_God, I hate her sometimes._ Wendy thought. Lily looked perfect, as always. Her make up was subtle and classy and her dress shimmered in the early spring sun.

It almost looked unnatural when she twisted her face into one of concern as she grabbed Wendy's face in her hand.

"Oh my god, Wednesday! What happened to your face? It looks like somebody hit you with a freaking 2x4!"

Wendy could barely talk through Lily's fingers smushing her face together.

"Wut du yu mean?" she squeezed out between her compressed lips.

"Shut up! You have to know! What- did you do your make up in the dark-or what?" Lily released her face and crossed her arms with a giddy smile.

"Don't I always?" Wendy gave a giggle that nobody would ever know was fake. "It can't be that bad, it doesn't even hurt."

Danny gave an amused smirk as Lily forced her bag into his hands and she searched for a compact mirror. When she found it, she offered it to Wendy, her face still in some unnatural panic. Wendy opened it with a gasp.

"What the hell?" She said as she traced the bruise with her fingers. "I must have like-" she let out a loud giggle "hit my head off the guard rail last night. I'm not used to sleeping on the top bunk."

"Wednesday!" Lily snapped the mirror closed. "I thought you were in some epic gang war or something!"

Wendy laughed again "Well, I wasn't." she crossed her arms. "Just me being-"

"Just Wendy being Wendy." Danny laughed "I bet she didn't move off that bed all night either! I'm really surprised she crawled all the way up to the top bunk, all she does is sleep, you'd think she'd just crash on the floor when she walked through the door!"

"Haha." Wendy said enthusiastically, "Yep. I'm lazy. I got it. We better go get breakfast before they run out of breakfast pizza."

* * *

I think that's it for this installment.

I don't think I have anything left in me to write.

Leave me something that makes me happy.

Like a review.

MXM


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